


Taming Granger

by LadyKenz347



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: 7th year, Alternate Universe - No Voldemort, Based on 10 Things I Hate About You/ Taming the Shrew, F/M, Fluff, Hogwarts Era, No Second War, teenage angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-05
Updated: 2019-11-12
Packaged: 2021-01-23 14:22:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21321637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyKenz347/pseuds/LadyKenz347
Summary: At the request of two bumbling Gryffindors, Draco sets out to tame Hogwart's very own Dragon Queen, Hermione Granger.But as his plans to seduce her turn fruitful, it may be him that is falling after all.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 129
Kudos: 722
Collections: Best of DMHG, completed read enjoyed





	1. Chapter 1

**A/N: This short story is dedicated to my very lovely reader, MD! You are such a wonderful encourager in this crazy fandom and I don’t think ** ** _anyone_ ** ** has read FWYB as much as you have haha. Thank you for reading and loving on all the swill I write, it makes my day everytime! **

**In this AU, there was no second wizarding world, no Voldemort and the characters are all in their seventh year. **

**This is very much based on ** ** _10 Things I Hate About You / Taming the Shrew_ ** ** (which I did not study, forgive me Billy Shakes.) **

**This story should be 6 chapters and I have 4 completed! So expect updates every few days!**

**Happy Birthday, my darling friend! I hope you enjoy this 8th year silliness. **

  
  


**TAMING GRANGER**

There was a moment of fraught silence as Draco stared back at the two bumbling twits. They seemed unable to decide who should speak first and it wasn’t until Draco lifted a waiting palm in their direction with a pointed glare that Weasley finally slapped Potter on the back and the words came tumbling out. 

“Well, the problem is that Ron and Ginny’s dad is a bit old fashioned—” 

Weasley snorted, leaning back in his chair with a huff. “Old fashioned? Mate, he’s medieval.” 

“Right,” Potter continued, winching behind his smudged glasses. _ Ugh. _ These two made his stomach churn. “Well, the rule is that Ginny—Ron’s sister—can’t go to the Yule Ball unless Hermione does.” 

Draco’s eyes darted between them, still waiting for the part that had anything at all to do with him. There was an air of panic about Potter and against his volition, Draco’s lips turned down in a disgusted sneer. Weren’t they supposed to be bloody Gryffindors?

“You’re boring me.” With a dismissive wave of his hand, Draco’s eyes floated across the hall, his gaze settling on the two witches in question. 

Ginny was quite fit; she played a fair bit of Quidditch, and she wasn’t half bad at it either. She was all long lean legs and her arse was decent. She did sport that gods-awful ginger hair and her freckles were quite distracting, but she was definitely shaggable.

But, Granger. Merlin, that witch was downright terrifying. It’s not that she wasn’t equally fit, some might argue _ more _ fit, but the girl was a wreck. Not only was she insufferable as a fellow classmate, but she was also quite nearly the driving force behind the rest of the school remaining celebate. Oh, she loved to march around the school with her little Head Girl badge pinned to her chest, ripping apart broom cupboards and docking points from any couple seen canoodling. 

In the worst possible way, the girl was a witch. 

It was Weasley to finally grab the reins and steer the old Hippogriff home as Draco yawned and rested his elbow on the empty chair beside him, lolling his head back in their direction. “We need your help,” he blurted and Draco’s features pinched. 

“Help with what? I’m not going to date Gin—”

“_ No!” _ Potter interjected forcefully, his palm slapping on the table between them. “Not Ginny. That’s—no. We need you to date Hermione.” 

Draco’s gaze wandered again through the Great Hall, landing on the witch in question again. She had a serious pout to her lips as she read through the days’ course material—of which Draco would bet a pretty galleon she’d already memorized—and when someone reached past her to grab a scone, she swatted violently at their wrist without looking up to see who it was. 

She’d earned the name “Dragon Queen” and it had nothing to with her royal stature and everything to do with the fact that she was a complete shrew. There had been some rumblings early on of her with a bloke the year up, McLaggen, if he remembered correctly. And very shortly after their sordid little love affair fizzled, the whispers began circulating. Not that Draco cared much for such things, but he wasn’t about to waltz into the Dragon’s den and ask to be set on fire, was he?

With a loud, indignant huff Draco pushed back from the Slytherin table and retrieved his bag. “You’re both barking.” He made it barely a few steps before they were clamoring to his side as he marched from the Great Hall. “Why on earth would you want me to try and date Hermione Granger? She’s a wreck. I don’t walk the same halls if I can avoid it.” 

“Well, that’s where it gets complicated…” Potters cheeks darkened and damnit all, but Draco was curious. He stopped on his heel, crossing his arms across his chest as he waited. “You see, Hermione… she’s particular. That’s why she doesn’t date much, never has.” 

“You’re her friend, Weasley. _ You _ date her.” Draco smirked, his jerking smugly to the side as he waited for a weak rebuttal.

“First—_ ew _. She’s like my sister. Second, I’m not her type.” Ron and Harry both shared a purposeful look before turning back to Draco. “She likes blonds.” 

There it was again, that long painful beat of silence as the three of them stared blankly at each other. The first bubble of laughter past Draco’s lips caught him by surprise, but the following guffaws that tore a stitch in his side completely overwhelmed him. 

The Dragon Queen preferred herself a blond, did she? Oh, it was just too good. As his laughter subsided and he righted himself to stare back at the two little twits, he let out a final long breath. “I’m not the only blond—though, I admit, I am the best looking.” 

“Well, Hermione can be a little…_ tough. _ We think you have the least likely chance of being frightened away by her and actually succeeding in getting her on a date. I want to take Ginny to the Yule and there’s no way in hell that’s happening unless Hermione goes with someone too.” 

Draco thought about it, truly he did. But the chances of his bollocks ending up in a jar with lime green fluid surrounding them was too great. “Sorry, boys. Find yourself another sacrifice.” 

Pushing between their shoulders, Draco made his way towards Potions, a class where Miss Dragon Queen herself would be present. 

“We can pay!” Harry shouted at his back and that earned a wry smile from Draco as he turned, never missing a step as he retreated backward down the hall. 

“If you think I need the money, you’re dimmer than I thought, Potter!” Righting his step, he shook his head, considering the ridiculous idea that he, Draco Malfoy and the scariest witch at Hogwarts, Hermione Granger, might end up together. It was too preposterous to even consider. 

xXx

The problem was that she was actually quite pretty. Draco found the longer he looked at her, the more he enjoyed the smattering of freckles along the bridge of her nose and he could suppose her hair wasn’t quite as awful as it’d been in their formative years. But, there was still an air of superiority that bothered him to no end. 

The way she stood at her potions desk with her nose tilted in the air and her back perfectly straight; it was infuriating. But her arse looked like you could probably bounce a sickle off it and every time she leaned for another ingredient her prim little skirt rode up the back of her thighs. 

It would be quite the challenge, and Draco found his seventh year entirely too boring. Merlin, if he was the one to tame the Dragon Queen? He’d be an absolute legend. 

Granger must have felt the weight of his stare because suddenly she whipped her face around and glared at him. Feeling a bit cheeky, Draco fluttered his eye closed in a wink. Her lip curled in a scowl and she rolled her eyes as she returned to her work. 

Well, that settled that. Draco Malfoy was going to seduce Hermione Granger. 

xXx

“Potter! Weasley!” 

The pair of them stopped mid-step, sharing a nervous look before turning over their shoulders in tandem. Draco couldn’t help the slow smirk spreading over his features as he approached them, fully enjoying the terror laced in their features. 

“It’s your lucky day dimwits. I’ve decided it’s in my best interest to comply with your request.” Truthfully, he could do it on his own without these fools but everything was better with an audience. Besides, if he let them believe it was a favor to them, he could easily reap the rewards. 

“You—_ you will?” _Potter asked, his brow pinched in his suspicion. “Why?”

Draco waved a dismissive hand through the air. “That’s not important. It’s important that I’m going to and you two will be my cronies until the Yule.”

“Cronies?” Weasley said slowly, his lips exaggerating every syllable. 

“Yeah, you know. Wash my cauldrons, brush my broom, whatever I want.” Adjusting the strap on his bag, Draco canted his head to the side and a crooked smile pulled at his lips. “You’ll do it.” 

Weasley seemed apprehensive, his hand dragging through his overgrown hair nervously but Potter was all too eager, quickly blurting, “Deal!”

A wicked smile formed on Draco’s lips and lifted his bag from his shoulders and held it between the three of them. “Brilliant. Take this down to the dungeons, would you? I’ve got practice.” There was a delicious joy knotting in Draco’s belly as Potter frowned and reached for the strap, securing it over his own. “Later, boys!”

xXx

The library was mostly deserted. Only a few seats were taken and one of them by the object of his desire, Miss Granger, herself. Straightening his spine, he pushed his wet, freshly showered locks of hair back from his forehead and crossed the library to the table in the back that she was occupying. 

He stood for quite some time, waiting for her to look up and acknowledge his sudden appearance, but her gaze remained firmly on her parchment, flickering only briefly to the tome to her left before back to her neat pen ship again. 

After an obscenely long wait, Draco scowled and decided to concede. “Hey, Gr—”

“No.” 

Draco’s head cocked back as if he’d been slapped. The infuriating little witch still hadn’t even looked up from her parchments yet. “What do you _ mean _ no? You haven’t heard what I was about to say.” 

Granger loosened a long, exaggerated sigh as she dipped the tip of her quill into her inkpot. “I can say with full confidence the answer is no.” 

“What if it wasn’t a question?” Draco snorted, dropping his bag into the chair. “What if I was just saying hi?”

This earned her attention—_ finally. _ Her squinted, chocolate-coloured eyes lifted to his, a frown curling her lips downward. “Draco Malfoy, I’ve been going to school with you for six and a half years. I have shared more classes than I can count, done prefect duties with you and even on one occasion, to no fault of my own, had to serve detention with you. In all that time you’ve never come up to just say _ hi. _”

Draco’s lips parted, ready to retort, but she gave him not a moment, instead continuing on her judgmental little tyrant before he could a word in edgewise. 

“This leads me to only conclusion: you are up to no good. And I don’t have time to fuss with your nonsensical business as I’m currently studying for my N.E.W.T.s. So if you please—”

“N.E.W.T.s? Those aren’t until the spring.” 

Rolling her eyes, Granger brought her attention deftly back to the work in front of her. “You sound just like Harry and Ron—just like everyone, really. There is a reason why I excel at academia, and that is because I take it very seriously. I don’t brush it off until the last minute like the rest of you.” 

Draco’s ego felt the punch and he huffed his indignation. “Hey! You forgetting who’s number two in our year?” 

Another sharp glare from Granger, her lips quirking up in a wicked teasing smile. “Are you forgetting who’s number one?”

Without any control of the matter, Draco’s lips curled back into a snarl and he yanked his bag up and stormed from the library. 

Merlin, he hated Hermione Granger. 

xXx

Advanced Astronomy was a fucking joke. But when Draco had first been presented with his course options for seventh year, he found he needed to fill his schedule with at least two more requisite classes. Astronomy had been an easy choice there; the lectures were droll and the practical portion of the class happened only once a month. 

It was mostly full of other students in his similar position, peers who wanted a slack class during the final year. After all, it’s not like any of them were going to go on to be Astronomers. But not Granger. 

No, the little swot had her hand in the air during every lecture, was there in the Astronomy tower before anyone else for each and every nightly observation. Add it to the list of reasons he thought Hermione Granger was a nuisance. 

“For the next few weeks, until term breaks for the holidays, you will be working in pairs. Your Midterm will be to submit the track the night sky on your assigned night. I will expect twelve inches on your findings, specifically any orbital anomaly, as well as your charts. Let’s pair up!” Professor Sinistra clapped her hands and returned to the blackboard as the students began making meaningful eye contact with each other in hopes of securing a friendly partner. 

Draco would have none of that. Without thinking of what a complete and utter fool he looked like, he rushed across the classroom and quickly claimed the seat next to Granger. He was actually fucking panting as he took his seat, meeting her wide curious expression with a horrified one. 

Everyone in the class was staring at them. 

“Hello, Granger,” he managed through his huffs. “Partners?”

Her eyes narrowed. “_ No. _”

Thankfully, everyone had since seemed to couple up, taking new seats and lifting their books from their bags. 

Professor Sinistra turned, her eyes landing on the two of them and widening in disbelief. With a small shrug, she turned and started on the far side of the room. Pointing to each pairing and assigning them a night to track. When she reached their table, she announced that the pair of them would be taking Friday night. 

Draco’s mouth fell open to protest but Granger beat him to it. “If you’d prefer to switch partners, that’s perfectly fine. I wouldn’t want to interrupt your social life with something of actual importance.” 

Mashing his lips shut, Draco turned to the little swot at his left. “Nope.” His lips popping at the _ p _. “Why wouldn’t I want to spend my Friday night with you, Granger? You’re a lovely companion, such an absolute joy to be around.” 

With an obscene roll of his eyes, he turned back to the front of the classroom. The Astronomy Professor continued on, explaining the project in further detail but Draco could hardly focus. All he could think of was how much Granger drove him nuts and how poorly he was doing at seducing her. If anything he was doing a brilliant job at making her despise him even more. After Sinistra dismissed them for the day, Granger began quickly gathering her thing and shoving them into her bag. 

“Last chance to back out, Malfoy. And you should know I have no intention of doing all the work, which I’m sure is why you rushed to this seat in particular. If you think this is going to be an easy ‘O’, well, you have another thing coming.” 

His brow knitted as she wore on. What a twit. Like he couldn’t easily manage an ‘O’ all on his own. But he thought twice on it, biting on the inside of his cheek. He was meant to be seducing her not infuriating her. 

“Granger, I have no intention of having you do all the work. I just wanted to work with you.” 

She pulled a face. “So, we’ll meet in the Astronomy Tower at nine? I’ll bring our texts and charts—”

“Why don’t I swing by your tower and pick you up first? I can escort you.” The words had tumbled out of his mouth before he could think them properly and they both stilled at the thought. 

“Um, no,” Granger said, shaking her head and rising to stand. “That won’t be necessary. I’ll see you Friday, Malfoy.” 

She turned, already halfway up the aisle before he turned quickly in his seat and called after her. “Maybe before then, if I’m lucky.” 

Granger froze, her entire body tensing as she managed a short look over her shoulder. She said nothing in return, her gaze darkening for a brief moment before she resumed her step and walked straight out of the classroom. 

xXx

Throughout the week, Draco had attempted several times to place himself in Granger’s path. He took up space at her favorite desk in the library, bumped into her outside Herbology, even offered to care the witch’s bag from Potions but each and every time he was met with her icy exterior. 

Merlin, she was a hard witch to woo. 

Friday came and while he spent the day enjoying the lingering crispness of Autumn, he found himself dreading the long night ahead in the Astronomy Tower. 

As he made his way up the stairs, a portrait swung open and a mess of curls hiding behind a thick book came storming out, barrelling into him and sending them both tumbling to the stone floor. 

“Fuck!” he groaned, as an elbow crushed his sternum. He blinked up, wheezing out a breath as he took in the witch tangled around him. “_ Granger _?” 

Her curls created a canopy around them and Salazar, help him but she was soft and warm pressed against his body that for the briefest moment he almost forgot who it was. Almost. Because she growled and as she got up her knee was far too rough between his thighs, nicking him in the balls. With a strangled groan, he rolled onto his side. 

“Draco Malfoy, I told you not to come here! I don’t need an escort,” she said forcefully, stomping her little foot into the space next to his head. 

“First,” he began, still lying on the ground. “I can see up your skirt.” With a wild shriek, she kicked at him with the toe of her shoe and he let out a low laugh, rushing to his feet. “Second, I didn’t stop here for you. I was walking by and was unwittingly tackled by you. But, since I’m here, shall we?”

Draco stepped to the side, lifting his bag back onto his shoulder and gesturing up the stairs. She seemed to mull it over, wanting to turn him down just for the hell of it while simultaneously knowing that they are walking in the exact same direction. 

“Fine,” she breathed, rolling her eyes and yanking her bag off the ground. 

They walked in silence, Draco just a few steps behind and Granger with her face still buried in her book. He couldn’t help but stare at her. She was quite lovely when she wasn’t sneering, pretty, even. When had Hermione Granger gone and gotten herself pretty? 

There’d been a few moments where she’d caught his eye; the Yule ball fourth year had nearly the entire castle talking. But now, without the angry wrinkle in her brow, he was pretty sure that Granger was quite possibly the most beautiful girl in their year.

Her gaze flickered to him, the wrinkle returning when she found him staring at her. Loosening a low breath, she returned her attention to her book. “Stop looking at me, Malfoy.” 

The truth rushed to his lips, and he almost stopped himself from speaking it. But then, all his other attempts to woo her had fallen flat. “You’re beautiful.” 

She turned quickly, the snap of her book echoing around the empty corridor. “What are you doing? You haven’t paid me any attention for years and now, for some reason, I can’t rid myself of you! You’re always around. Always looking at me and saying things that I can’t bring myself to believe you actually think. So what’s going on?”

Draco smirked, taking a step towards her until he was dangerously in her space. “I guess you could say I’m seeing things with a new perspective. And you’re one of those things.” His gaze scoured her face, the edges of his eyes crinkling as his smirk widened. 

Her breath hitched, her own gaze flickering to his full lips before hardening into a scowl. “I don’t trust you, Malfoy. Let’s just get done with this project and we can go back to ignoring each other like we always have. Deal?”

_ Fat chance, Granger. _ The more she fought his attention the more he desperately wanted to gain it. “After you.” He jerked his chin back in the direction of the Astronomy Tower and after a final hard glare, she turned. 

Tucking his chin into his chest, he chuckled lowly and stared up at her through his lashes. Granger sure wasn’t going to be making this easy on him. 

**xXx**

**Alpha and Beta credit to the lovely, MCal. **

**Until next time! LK**


	2. Chapter 2

Pushing the fringe back from his brow, Draco happily jaunted from the Quidditch pitch. He’d caught the snitch in practice, which was always something to rejoice over, even if it was to be expected. All of his advances at wooing the swot had come up fruitless and this tiny, inconsequential win raised his spirits. 

Said spirits nearly began dancing when he caught sight of the Gryffindor team making their way through the tunnel; he paused mid-step, grin widening. 

“Potter!” Draco delighted in the way his one-time rival froze, panic etching into his features as they locked gazes. 

Theo nudged him, eyeing the Gryffindor at the end of the hall with a curious stare. “You good, Malfoy?” 

“About to be.” Draco smirked, lifting his broom off his shoulder and making his way down the tunnel. It’s not that Harry Potter was any serious kind of threat, but he was well liked, where Draco was, decidedly,  _ not. _ The teachers all kissed his arse and the witches of this school swooned whenever his mop of black hair took to the Quidditch pitch. 

That’s why moments like these were all the sweeter. 

“What is it, Malfoy?” Potter's voice dropped, his gaze darting over his shoulder at his teammates. 

Holding out his broom, Draco wanted to actually squeal when he watched a slow realization drip over the Gryffindor’s face. “I need this tended to. Brush the bristles and polish the handle, would you?”

Potter’s eyes narrowed behind his horribly smudged glasses and Draco swallowed a chuckle. But then the girl Weasel stepped forward, laying a hand on her would-be boyfriend’s shoulder. “Looking for someone to polish your broom off for you, Malfoy? We always suspected you had a thing for Harry.” 

The Gryffindor team, and even Nott, erupted into riotous laughter as a red-hot blush spread to the tips of ears. He yanked his broom back into his own possession. With a soft growl and a sneer, he pushed past Potter, checking him with his shoulder in the process. 

_ Bleeding Gryffindors.  _

xXx

It was the third Friday and Draco was nowhere closer to getting so much as a smile from Granger. On each of their assigned nights together, she arrived promptly, a serious pout on her pretty lips, and began charting the night sky.

He, however, took all the time in the world just to study the strange witch. Presumably, the people she kept company with could be considered friends; so she couldn’t be a complete troll. Yet every ounce of charm he exuded died against her icy exterior. 

“You could help, you know,” Granger drawled from over her parchment. 

“I  _ am _ helping. Remember just last week you told me the best thing I could do would be to sit here and keep my mouth shut? Just following orders, love.” He was in a pissy mood and frankly, he was growing tired of chasing a witch that had more walls than the castle they lived in. 

“What’s up your arse tonight?” she asked.

The sound of her quill scrawling notes on her parchment set his teeth on edge and he glowered back at her. Sure, he could tell her that her stupid friends had bruised his ever fragile ego or that any attempts to seduce the Dragon Queen herself was going positively horrible, but that wouldn’t help his long game. So he settled for the ever eloquent, “Piss off, Granger.” 

“Merlin, you’re in quite the state.” Apparently his sour mood was deemed interesting enough as she turned from the telescope and her attentions were placed solely on him. “Bad practice or something?” 

A smirk kissed the corner of his mouth as he rested his head against the stone and stared back at her. “You know I play Quidditch, Granger?”

With a soft snort and roll of her milk chocolate-coloured eyes, she turned back towards the balcony, staring out at the rolling Scottish hills. “Everyone knows you play Quidditch. You’re the second best seeker at Hogwarts.” 

Draco’s jaw fell open. “ _ Second? _ ”

“After Harry, of course.” His eyes narrowed and a nasty insult formed in the back of his throat but she continued, “It’s not that your bad, you just aren’t as fast. Your finesse when flying is certainly admirable, you have a certain instinct that Harry lacks. But he’s Gryffindor for a reason.” 

Her chuckle filled the air and his eyes rounded as he stared at her; the swot-extraordinaire, of course, she’d have an opinion about his Quidditch skills. 

“Harry is reckless when he plays. He makes moves you won’t because you don’t want to get hurt; you pull back at the last minute. Harry doesn’t. If you could combine his speed and your ability, you’d be brilliant.” 

It was natural to quip back, to say something that would bite her in the arse… but he didn’t _ . _ Odd, to say the very least. Because the truth of it was, she was bloody right. 

Merlin, the number of times Draco had lost a snitch because he’d been too cautious. Blame it on his upbringing, but he wasn’t the sort of bloke to enjoy getting his hands dirty nor his clothes ruined, even on a Quidditch pitch. 

“Very astute, Granger. I didn’t know you watched me so closely.” Draco’s eyes dropped to his hands, picking at his perfect cuticles just to seem a touch more aloof. 

To his complete surprise, Granger moved further from the balcony, sinking to the floor across from him and crossing her ankles. “Well, my friends always insist I go. And around fourth year they started complaining if I read. So I do what I do best,” she paused to smile at her lap, before lifting her eyes to his. “I study. I could also tell you the strengths and weaknesses of almost every player in each house. For instance, did you know that Ernie Macmillion always feigns left before he throws the Quaffle?”

Draco’s eyes rounded and he leaned forward, somehow completely captivated by the unruly haired witch across from him. “ _ Really?” _

Her soft laugh trilled through the air and Draco felt a strange flutter in his chest. “Truly. The entire Hufflepuff team is rife holes in their strategy.” 

Running his fingers through his hair, Draco tucked his chin into his chest and laughed mirthlessly. “Well, we may have finally found some common ground Granger, and I find myself in a place in new territory.” 

“And what territory is that?” 

Peering up through his lashes, he leveled her with his most charming smirk, the one reserved for the most special of witches. “Entranced by you.” 

The slow blush spreading across Granger’s cheeks stole all his attention and when she set down her papers and leaned back towards him, he was quite nearly beside himself. “I could tell you more, I suppose. The night sky is bound to stay the same for a few minutes.” 

His smirk spread to a grin and he leaned back. “I’m all ears, Granger.” 

xXx

Sunday afternoon he decided it was best to capitalize on his minuscule breakthrough with Granger the night before. Which is how he found himself in the back corner of the library on a bleeding Sunday. 

On this particular visit, the witch didn’t dismiss him or insult him as he took a seat across from her, instead just pulled a disbelieving face and resumed her work. For awhile he was content to work quietly next to her but then an altogether brilliant idea struck him and he found a stray piece of parchment and in a long, elegant script he scrawled out his first message. 

_ Hi. _

Charming it to lay flat, he slid it across the table towards her, then quickly returned his gaze to his Arithmancy book, biting back a smile. From his peripheral vision, she read it, furrowed her brow and stared at the top of his head for about ten seconds. But then, as if by some strange miracle, the sound of her quill scratching against the paper heralded his success. The paper slid back towards him and without meeting her keen eye, he trapped it under his fingertips and pulled it safely into his space. 

_ Hello. _

His very own mouth threatened to betray him as he fought another smile. 

_ What are you working on?” _

This one was returned much quicker and he even managed to brush his fingers against hers as he stole it back. 

_ Ancient Runes. Why are you bothering me? _

Draco swallowed a chuckle as Pince walked past the stacks and he hastily scribbled his response. 

_ Maybe I just missed you, Granger. _

_ Highly unlikely. What are you working on? _

_ Arithmancy. Second-guessing why I took the course if I’m honest. It’s so pointless… _

_ IT IS NOT POINTLESS! Maybe you just need a more comprehensive view of the subject… Or a tutor.  _

_ Are you offering? What’s the going rate for a private tutoring session with the brightest witch of our age. _

By now, he’d long forgotten his work, leaning back to stare at her as she smiled down at the parchment and then crinkled her nose in thought. Peering up at him, she arched a mischievous brow before scrawling a lengthy note back. 

_ Sugar quills. But not those Godric-awful clear ones—they taste like cough syrup. I will accept pink or blue and in a dire situation purple. If you wanted help I could potentially clear my schedule for— _

“Malfoy! There you are.” Draco jumped in his seat, recognizing the too close proximity of his cohorts. Blaise was there suddenly, clapping a hard palm on Draco’s shoulder. Theo followed close behind, finding a spot on the wall to lean against as he eyed the situation unfolding in front of him. 

“Didn’t realize you had a date,” Theo said from the corner of his mouth, quirking his brows in their direction. 

“ _ What?” _ He balked, his ears burning red as he scoffed and sat back smugly in his chair. “It’s not—well, we’re just—”

“We’re studying,” Granger supplied quickly, gathering up her supplies with a new urgency. “I was just finishing anyway.” 

Draco watched as the witch hastily shoved her books and parchments in her bag, disappointment thick in the air around them. “You don’t have to leave,” he rushed. “I really was about done with my work, so I’ll leave.” 

“Nope.” Granger’s eyes flashed dangerously and she lifted her shoulder onto her bag. “Done, here. See you, Malfoy.” As if remembering her polite manners, she pursed her lips and nodded towards the other two Slytherins present. “Gentlemen.”

She made it only a few steps before Blaise called out to her. “You’re looking good these days, Granger.” 

Pausing midstep, Granger turned over her shoulder, the cold facade that he had grown far too familiar with fixed back on features. She remained mute, sneering once before disappearing, leaving an icy chill in her wake. Blaise was unaffected, a bright laugh rippling through the air as he rocked back on the desk. “Merlin, that witch needs to loosen up. I didn’t know you were slumming it, Draco.” 

Nerves got the best of him and the semi-truth pushed past his lips. “I’m not. Just a transaction with Potter and Weasley. They’re doing my bitch work while I work on the Dragon Queen.” His voice was half-hearted, all his thoughts now down the hall with a certain curly-haired witch as Blaise’s guffaws grew in volume. 

“Oh, Malfoy, you never fail to entertain. Maybe when you’re done I’ll take a pass at her; she could use a good lay or two and I’ve heard she’s an absolute tomcat.” 

Bristling, Malfoy grunted and started packing up his belongings. “Where on earth would you hear that?” 

“Everyone’s heard it, mate,” Theo tagged on, his brow arched sardonically. “McLaggen shagged her a few years back.” 

Green jealousy twisted in his belly and he swallowed the bitter taste of it. 

Pince had since arrived, pinch-faced and pissed. “That is quite enough, you three! Out! There is learning of the highest order happening here and it will not be derailed by the likes of you—”

“Yeah, yeah. We’re gone.” Blaise rose to stand, waving her off with a dismissive hand and a hard eye roll. “Come on, Malfoy. The Puffs have harvested their Sweet Weed and are having a party to celebrate this most joyous occasion. You in?”

Malfoy stood frozen for a moment, staring at his childhood friends with new eyes.

“You coming, Malfoy?” Nott echoed as Pince again shooed them from the stacks. 

“Yeah,” he said. “I’m coming.” 

xXx

**A few housekeeping notes. Idk what I was thinking when I said eight chapters, it is most certainly six! I must have been having a moment. Also, I believe in the first chapter it says their night to observe is on Saturday; please amend to Friday. That was a whoopsie on my part! I’ve made edits, but just so you know moving forward!**

**Alpha/Beta thanks to MCal! The fun continues and thank you all so much for all your support on this fic! It’s been fun to write and I actually completed the first draft of the final chapters today! Yay! Once I can get them through beta and make edits, I will keep posting up chapters! **

**Thanks for all your feedback, it makes my day!**


	3. Chapter 3

The dungeons were horribly cold now that Autumn had set in, and as he sat there with his feet propped up, staring at Weasley and Potter scrubbing cauldrons, he had a moment of near remorse. ‘Near’ being the operative word. He loathed cleaning cauldrons; it wasn’t becoming of a Malfoy. But since he’d accidentally set Snapes’ robes on fire with a faulty potion, he’d been assigned the delightful task of cleaning first year cauldrons for the remainder of the term. 

It was abhorrent. 

“How are things going with Hermione anyway? Are you going to be able to take her to the Yule?” Ron panted like a buffoon, wiping the sweat from his brow with the back of his arm. 

Malfoy pulled a face and canted his head from side to side. “It is quite definitely a possibility.” Two sets of eyes glared at him from behind stinking, sudsy cauldrons and Draco couldn’t help but laugh outright. “I am steadily working on it; it’d help if you could offer some assistance.” 

They shared a look between them and Ron’s pinched face was the one to speak. “Like what?”

Inspecting his cuticles, Draco shrugged. “What sort of stuff does she like?” 

“Reading,” they replied in tandem. 

“Brilliant,” Draco deadpanned. “Anything other than the horribly vague topic of reading which encompasses millions of tomes throughout the known world?”

“I mean, if I were—and I’m not—wanting to seduce Hermione, I would go for books,” Harry answered with a shrug, grimacing as a bit of grime sloshed from the cauldron and onto his lap. 

Books. How on earth would he make that work for him?

xXx

During their sixth year, a small bookshop opened in Hogsmeade. Its tomes were dusty and usually second hand, it’s carpet smelled a bit musty and it’s shopkeeper forever testy, but its crowning jewel was its stacks. 

Up until this particular Saturday, Draco had not set foot in the store. If he was ever in need of something it was a quick owl home and the proffered items would appear by owl post the following morning. But for Granger, he crossed the threshold of The Midnight Owl with only the smallest of disgusted grimaces. 

He browsed the aisles, studying the spines and titles he’d never set eyes on before. Malfoy Manor boasted a right proper collection of rare finds, but the ones here were obscure, by authors he’d never heard of and topics he couldn’t imagine anyone actually wanting to read. Stumbling across a book on the history of Nifflers and their obsession with glittering treasures, he flipped it open with idle curiosity. Some twenty minutes later, he’d tucked himself into a dusty little armchair near the window and was well into the third chapter when Granger fell into the seat across from him. 

“What are you doing here, Malfoy?” Her tone left little to the imagination, she was in her usual irritable state. 

He didn’t lift his gaze from the printed word, and it had  _ nothing _ to do with being engrossed in the tale of the Cursed Niffler. Apparently cast on them by a Warlock Frentheir who had become so obsessed with his own fortune that he cursed an entire magical being lineage; Draco did, however, hold up a silencing finger as he finished the page. 

“Sorry, what?” he said absently, delighting in her stewing ire. 

Crimson coloured her cheeks. “Why are you in my bookshop?” 

A wry smile tugged at his lips. “Did I miss your name on the awning?”

“You know what I mean.” 

Draco snapped the book shut, but not before cataloging the page he’d left off on. “Do I? I just happened in for a book. I didn’t know it would be so irritating to you.” 

“A book on Nifflers?” She snorted, her eyes narrowing derisively. 

“I _ love _ Nifflers.” Draco was powerless to stop the slow curling of his lips into a grin. She settled into her seat with a huff, a stack of three books precariously teetering on her lap, and he couldn’t help but chuckle to himself. “I was looking for you and found this strangely interesting book.” 

A soft hum filled the air, her lips pulling downward. “Thomas Grimp has an entire series about the history of Magical Creatures.” 

“Does he?” Draco’s voice lilted in genuine surprise, eyeing the author on the front of the book. 

“Yes,” she responded tersely. “I’ve read them all. The Niffler one is interesting, if not a bit pandering, if I’m honest. But his take on Thestrals and his theory on their magical defense mechanisms was honestly,” she paused, lost in her thoughts, “awe-inspiring.” 

“I’ve never seen a thestral,” Draco admitted, the strange confession slipping past his lips of its own volition. 

“Neither have I. Hope I don’t for a long time. You might also enjoy his novella on the Goblin Wars. It’s fiction but he interviewed dozens of Goblins on their lore and their ancestors.” She paused, her blush deepening. “I’m rambling. Sorry.” 

“I like listening to you,” Draco said honestly, surprising himself. Her gaze shot up to his, the space between her brows wrinkling in disbelief. “What books did you choose?”

“Oh—” She turned the stack in her lap, reading the spines. “A few fictions and a history of the Sacred Twenty-Eight.”

Draco choked on a breath. “The Sacred Twenty-Eight? Why on earth would you read that rubbish?”

“It’s interesting!” The witch pressed, the edge of her lip pulling up into a half-smile. 

“It’s archaic. Those beliefs died—or are dying out.” Truthfully, Draco felt a bit shameful that she might read of his family’s legacy in those pages. While his parents were still considered traditionalist in most respects, they didn’t subscribe to the ridiculous notions of blood purity. The last vestiges of that racist idealism died with his grandfather. 

“Well, it’s still important to learn about.” Her tone took on a superior quality and she tilted her chin infinitesimally higher. 

“Why?”

Her dark gaze locked onto his, rendering him breathless for the span of exactly two heartbeats. “Because learning about the horrors of the past is the only way to prevent it from leeching into our future. If we know it, we can fight it.” 

Something was changing, her smug self-righteousness was no longer maddening—it was endearing. She spoke with such devout conviction that he found himself lost in her tangents about the strangest of topics. 

“Do you want to get a Butterbeer?” The question blurted out and Draco wasn’t sure if it had anything to do with the arrangement between himself and the Gryffindor twits or genuine interest, but he knew he wanted to spend the afternoon with her. 

She chewed on the thought a moment, her brow crinkling her and her lips pursing. “Yes.” 

The answer rocked him, pushing his head back as though she’d reached crossed the table and slapped him for the presumptuousness of asking her out. “You do?”

She tucked her chin and giggled. “Trust me, it’s just as surprising to me.” 

Warmth bloomed slow but steady in his chest and although disbelief still coursed in his veins, he rose to his feet. “Can I get those for you?”

Her brow knitted as she stared down where he’d gestured. “My books?”

“Yeah.” 

“Oh. Um, sure, I suppose so.” She handed them off and although he pretended to buckle under their weight, earning a delightful little laugh from the witch, he winked and made for the front of the shop. 

Sweet Salazar, what was happening? Was he starting to actually like the Dragon Queen?

xXx

“You’ve got a little—” Draco laughed, motioning to his upper lip and hoping that she pick up on his hint. With a start, she swiped at her lip and giggled into her empty cup. 

As surprising as it was that he enjoyed Granger’s company at all, it was even more surprising that she was an actual riot when butter-buzzed. The music lilting through the air of the Three Broomsticks was the standard jovial instrumental tune they played on repeat for the past several decades; yet, she as she sucked on her second butterbeer and shimmied her shoulders to the melody, Draco couldn’t help but laugh to himself. 

“Do you want another?” she asked, her brows arched angelically. “I could grab us one.” 

A genuine laugh spread through him as he pushed his butterbeer to the side. “Should I cut you off?” 

“ _ Absolutely not. _ I would be offended if you tried.” Her gaze narrowed and Draco’s hands came up in defense. 

“Alright, little drunken swot, I’ll grab one more round before I escort you safely to your tower.” 

At the severe roll of her eyes, Draco slid from the booth and ambled his way up to the bar. It was late in the Autumn and every time that blasted door swung open, Draco felt a chill spread up his spine. Madame Rosmerta was at the far end of the bar, leaning across the counter and chatting with Flitwick and McGonagall, perhaps never coming to his aid. 

With a loud groan, he turned towards the soft laughter trilling through the air. In his booth, with his witch, was Blaise-fucking-Zabini. His gaze narrowed dangerously and he slapped a palm on the counter several times, never taking his gaze from the scene he left behind. 

“You’re very rude,” the barkeep huffed, glaring at him as she slung a bar towel over her shoulder. “What d’yah want?”

“Two Butterbeers, one spiked with firewhisky—” She glowered and he acquiesced. “ _ Please. _ ” 

He waited patiently—well, as patiently as he could—his finger tapping to a frantic beat on the worn bar. Zabini was an alright bloke; he’d known him since he was a tot. And not to say he didn’t trust him—but,  _ Merlin he didn’t trust him _ . Rosermeta deposited the two drinks and Draco tossed twice the cost on the bar and rushed back to his seat. 

“Zabini,” he deadpanned, slipping into the spot next to Granger and handing her the un-spiked Butterbeer. 

“Malfoy, there you are. Was just keeping Granger company while you were otherwise preoccupied.” His sterling white crescent smile gleaned against his dark skin and Draco’s patience wore thin. 

“How thoughtful of you.” Draping his arm around the witch’s shoulder, Draco sunk into his seat and brought his drink to his lips, his gaze never wavering. 

Blaise's gaze flashed, his head jerking quickly to the side as he eyed his friend. “You okay, mate?”

“Better than okay. I’ll see you back at the castle, yeah?” Curling his fingers around Granger’s shoulder, he felt her stiffen and knew at that moment he’d made a grave fucking mistake. But in for a sickle, in for a galleon, it seemed; he couldn’t back down in front of Zabini— _ wouldn’t back down. _

“Right.” Zabini’s hands lifted as he slid from his seat. “Good talking to you, Granger.” His eye drifted closed in a wink and Draco nearly growled as he took another long drink of Butterbeer. 

Once his new Slytherin adversary was across the bar, Draco cleared his throat and sat up tall, bringing his elbows back to the table and ignoring the heat of a fresh blush on his cheeks. The weight of her stare bored into him and with every ounce of strength he possessed, he ignored it. Surely, he could find a safe topic to discuss, to drag them from the horrible display he’d just put on. 

“This is why I don’t like you, Malfoy.” Granger clipped, her body stiff next to him. 

_ Fuck. _ He swallowed the last of his butterbeer and turned towards her, his lips pulled into a tight line. “Sorry?”

“You’re putting on a show. And I can understand that, I have that defense mechanism myself at times; but I don’t know what part of you is real and what part you’re acting. I don’t trust you.” Those four words crashed into him and he sputtered out a half-hearted excuse. “Save it,” she interrupted, pushing him from the seat so she could rise to stand. “At this point, I don’t think _ you _ know what’s fake. You should work on that.”

Grabbing up her cloak she was gone in a flurry leaving an untouched butterbeer and a bag full of books in her wake. With a loud groan, he sank back into his seat and buried his face in his palms. One step forward, three steps back. 

No one quite knew how to bollocks shite up like he did. 

**xXx**

**AN: Sorry about the delay there! Life and all that nonsense! **

**I will be editing as quick as humanly possible to get these last couple chapters to you my darlings! **

**And if you’re interested in hearing the wild ramblings of myself and my friend, Frumpologist, head over to facebook and like our new page Wine, Wands and Wafflings. We will be publishing a new podcast show in the next few weeks, interviewing your favorite authors and chatting about beloved fics! It’s gonna be an absolute riot! **

**Thanks to MCal for her beta eyes and alpha heart in this piece. I love you!**


	4. Chapter 4

The Astronomy Tower was fraught with tense silence. Draco had attempted to hand over the books she’d left at the pub to no avail. Instead, he was met with an icy glare and an upturned nose. 

It was Draco’s turn at the telescope and as he made notes on the unsurprisingly consistent night sky the silence gnawed at his nerves. He’d become accustomed to the sound of her voice and when he was without it, the very air felt off. 

Over the last few minutes, he’d been chewing on several possible conversation starters. Once he’d found one he thought was safe, he decided to test the waters. “We should be able to see Mars soon—”

“No.” 

Snapping his gaze from the starry sky and back to the ever petulant Granger, his jaw fell open. “How can you answer statements like that with a  _ no _ ? It’s rude.” 

“Because you’re wrong.” Her tongue darted out, licking the nib of her quill before placing it back down on the parchment. 

With a loud snort, Draco straightened his spine. “You can’t possibly know that. Mars should be visib—”

“No,” she breathed, cutting him off sharply. “Mars is only visible near dawn. You’re probably mistaking it with the similar Arcturus. It looks similar and is in a similar location.”

“Can you just stop icing me out?” Draco snapped, taking two hard steps towards her with a withering glare. “I don’t know why you’re so pissed that I got Zabini off your back. Trust me, he’s not in it for the right reasons.” 

Her narrowed gaze finally shot up, locking on his. “In  _ what _ for the right reasons?” 

Pulling a face, Draco failed to think of proper thought. Outing Zabini would compromise himself. “Well…” 

“See!” She said, scrambling to her feet and letting her parchments flutter to the ground. “That, _ right there _ ! You’re lying about something! I don’t know where you got the idea that I’m stupid enough to fall for this ridiculous charade, but I assure you I’m not. I’ve been in this school for nine months out of every year since I was eleven. None of you slimy Slytherins so much as glanced my way and all of a sudden, you guys can’t piss off! Just tell me what’s going on!”

Despite the fact that he was indeed lying, he despised being called a liar. Indignant rage coursed through him as he defended himself. “Nothing is going on!”

“You’re lying!” 

“Is it that hard to believe that I might actually enjoy spending time with you? Merlin, this is why no one gets close to you,” he scoffed, waving in general direction. “You want to push me away?  _ Fine. _ But stop blaming it on anything other than that you don’t like being around me.”

Granger inhaled sharply, her brow wrinkling. The confession startled them both,  _ clearly _ , but it was Draco who couldn’t decipher where his lie had ended when the truth began. He  _ did _ enjoy spending time with her when her hackles weren’t raised and she was actually speaking to him. 

The silence dragged on until finally the witch let go of a tired breath and her shoulders sagged. “You’re right.” 

Maybe he’d misheard.  _ Surely _ , he misheard, because there was no chance in hell that Hermione Granger was relenting that easily. “I’m— _ I’m what? _ ”

Deflating, she tilted her face up towards the giant armillary hanging from the rafters and steadied herself. “You’re right, okay? I just—I had a bad experience with someone. He’d never given me a lick of attention and then, remarkably, he did. I was stupid and naive and thought he actually liked me. We ended up—well, it doesn’t matter. But I made a mistake I really wish I could take back and the sodding idiot boasted about to his entire year. Living in the Gryffindor Tower has been horrible and  _ finally, _ he’s gone and I just wanted some semblance of normal this year. And then you started coming around. It’s hard for me to trust that not every wizard out there is going to do the same. I’m… _ sorry _ .” _ _

Guilt twisted nastily in his belly but he cleared his throat and nodded anyway. “It’s okay. I’m sorry that happened to you. Sounds like a tosser.” 

With a watery laugh, she used the back of her hand to wipe away the tears tracking down her cheeks. “Yeah, he is. Are you ready for your game tomorrow?” 

“Well,” he paused to level her in his most charming smirk, “I would normally say yes, but since I’m only the second-best Seeker and I’m going up against Hogwart’s most eligible bachelor and star seeker—”

Snorting, Granger took a few steps closer. “He’s no such thing and he’s only better because he’s reckless.”

Bending down to snag his house scarf, he hid his face as he closed the distance between them. When they were finally toe-to-toe, their gazes met. “You should wear this tomorrow.” Without permission, he slung it over her shoulders and smirked down at her as she pulled a face. 

“What kind of Gryffindor would I be if I wore  _ this _ ?” 

“It looks good on you.” The truth was dangerous, but he couldn’t stop it from slipping out again and again when he was around her. 

He tugged lightly on the ends of the Slytherin scarf draped around her neck and pulled her infinitesimally closer. In the quiet reprieve, he allowed himself to study the gentle curve of her cheek and the freckled constellations across her nose. Of its own volition, his hand reached up and caught a particularly buoyant curl and pulled on it lightly, letting it spring back into its position. 

In the strangest turn of events, her gaze fell to his parted lips just as his hand came to curl around her jaw. He was so close, Merlin, he could almost taste the sugar quill on her lips. 

Under them, a door slammed and they both jumped back, fussing with their clothing as if they’d been caught doing something truly salacious. Draco rushed to the telescope and bent to peer through the glass, though he saw nothing; the frantic thundering of his heart stole every morsel of attention he possessed. 

“Hermione?”  _ Fucking Potter. _

“Yes, Harry?” Granger’s voice took on a worried quality as she made for the stairs. Potter ambled up moments later, speaking in low hushed tones as he gestured back towards the came. 

With a loud groan, she turned back for their workspace, lips downturned. “I have to go early. Head Girl business.”

“At eleven at night?” Disbelief choked him as he narrowed his eyes at Potter for absolutely no reason at all. 

“There’s a first-year girl who needs my help. Will you be alright?” Her doe eyes stared back at him and he almost lied again—what was one more after all—and asked her to stay. 

“Yeah, you go on. I’ll clean up.” 

With a final remorseful frown, she grabbed her bag and disappeared down the stairs. 

xXx

Kicking off the grass, Draco sat tall on his broom, pulling his gloves on as he scanned the Gryffindor section for a single flash of green. 

“Malfoy!” Theo shouted from a few feet over. “Look sharp; it’s time for the whistle.”

Rolling his eyes, Draco gripped the stick of his broom and begrudgingly tore his gaze from the stands. Hooch was there, standing over the trunk and demanding a clean game. Across from him hovered Potter and while normally the sight of him on a Quidditch pitch would be enough to make Draco’s blood boil, today he was nothing more than a passing annoyance. 

From the corner of his eye, he saw a small disturbance in the stands and managed a glance over his shoulder. There, in a bright crimson cloak with a matching hat, was Hermione Granger, a Slytherin scarf hanging around her neck. A grin threatened to split his cheeks and when the whistle blew he pulled higher, making a quick dart for the Gryffindor stands. 

Granger was already gaining quite a bit of attention on her own but when Draco flew just in front of her, tossing her a wink before tearing off in search of the snitch, the stands went positively wild.

xXx 

Two bloody hours. 

The cold bit at his skin as he hovered several yards over the top of the stands. Around him, sharp gusts of frigid November air rocked his broom back and forth as he stared out the vast openness of the sky. 

It’s not that matches were unknown to take two hours, but it was just so fucking cold. Below him, Theo launched the Quaffle through the hoop, right past Weasley. The announcer’s voice bellowed through the air, “ _ Nott strikes again!  _ That’s another for the Snakes leaving our score at a staggering one-hundred-eighty-five to sixty in favor of Slytherin!” 

The cushion of points did little to calm the nerves rioting in his belly. It took just one inch, one second and the game was gone. His very last game against Gryffindor for the rest of his life. 

Just then, a flash of gold in his peripheral. He didn’t move, didn’t dare flinch in case Potter was watching. With slow steady breaths, he waited; snitches were terribly obnoxious, fluttering about almost begging to be caught. And this one was no different, the soft buzzing of its wings sounded in his ear and then it was there, floating just out of arms reach. 

With a showy little twirl, the snitch dove towards the ground. Draco followed, tipping his broom dangerously until he lost the sensation of flying and adopted the feeling of plummeting to the earth with no safety net. The announcer’s voice echoed around him, but beyond hearing that Malfoy had caught sight of the snitch and Potter was on his way, he paid it no mind. 

He could see it, careening towards the ground and this is exactly where he would pull up usually; this is when his fear of colliding violently with the earth at high speeds tended to get the best of him and he’d slow. But, not today. He was a foot away from victory and Potter would be close. Right before the snitch toppled to the grass, it changed course, darting forward horizontally. 

Palms slick with sweat, he gripped his broomstick harder until the last possible minute. Throwing his right shoulder hard to the left, he began spiraling through the air just three feet off the ground. The world spun dangerously as he wound in a tight corkscrew, finally evening and locking on the snitch yet again. 

Blurry and out of focus, Potter raced toward him. If neither of them conceded they would slam into each other; but Draco could almost feel the flap of his prey’s wings and he fought for centimeters. Time slowed as they barreled towards each other and then, by some miracle, he gained another inch. 

His fingers closed around the cold surface and it’s wings stilling and retreating. He grinned just as Potter veered, missing him by a breath. 

Pulling up, he was lost in the cacophony of sound coming from the stands. His team swarmed him, shouting their applause as their victory was announced to the stands. Draco nodded along but quickly broke away, making a long curl towards the Gryffindors and setting eyes on the Dragon Queen herself. Slowly clapping and beaming back at him; he got close enough to toss the snitch at her, which she barely caught on her mittened hands. 

“Hold onto that for me?” He shouted, ignoring the sneers from her housemates. 

He was answered by a playful roll of her eyes as she pocketed the snitch. 

xXx

Fresh from the showers, Draco stepped from the locker room, ignoring the way his hair almost froze in the brittle air and cursing himself for not drying it properly. 

At the end of the tunnel stood a witch in a red coat, wild curls spilling over her shoulders and a wry, almost nervous, smile on her face. 

“Look who it is.” Draco grinned stopping when he close enough that she had to tilt her face up to look at him. 

“I brought your snitch,” she said, arching her brow and lifting it from her pocket. “And your scarf.” 

As she held the laundered items out to him, something warm enveloped him. A warming charm, her magic. He lost all reasonable thought, forgetting that he was supposed to be seducing her for nefarious purposes and lost himself in the fact that he just genuinely liked Hermione Granger, hard edges and all. 

His hand threaded through the curls not tucked away in her hat, curling until he could tilt her just a touch closer. Hovering his lips over hers, he waited; panic swelled in his chest when her eyes rounded in worry. But then, he was gone. Lost, as she lifted onto her toes and pressed her mouth against his. 

If he were being honest, he wasn’t used to kisses like this. Soft and tentative, without expectation of things to come  _ after _ . But, Merlin, he liked it. At least, he liked it with Granger. 

Slanting his lips over hers he took a single step, turning her so her back was pressed against the cold stone and dropped his bag at their feet. Both hands now cradled her jaw, his thumbs running course after course over the swell of her cheek. 

Still holding the borrowed items, her hands came to rest on his hips as she arched into the kiss and  _ fuck _ , Draco was done for. Positively gone. 

“Ehem! Mister Malfoy!” Pulling away, he rested his forehead for the briefest moment against hers before turning to the soon to be hexed bint who interrupted the world’s most perfect kiss. “ _ Miss Granger!”  _ Madame Hooch’s tone turned incredulous as Granger chuckled into his chest. 

“Sorry, Madame Hooch. We were just going.” A laugh chased each word, as she buried her fingers in Draco’s robes and tugged him forward. 

Stumbling behind her, he sucked in a breath as the cold air hit his cheeks yet again. She was laughing, all pink-cheeked and bundled in red and he couldn’t for the life of him remember a time when he wasn’t crazy about her. 

Reaching down, he pulled the scarf from her hands and wrapped it securely around her neck. “Will you go to the Yule Ball with me?”

She bit down on her lip, hiding her grin as she nodded. “I suppose I would.” 

Slotting his fingers through hers, he tugged her back towards the castle. This year had taken the wildest turn and while he could never have foreseen it, he welcomed it. Things seemed to finally be going his way. 

“Ginny will be ecstatic,” she laughed, shaking her head. 

The words sent a trill of guilt through him and inexplicably his throat felt tight. “Yeah? Why’s that?”

“Oh, her dad is so strict. Wouldn’t let her go unless I go too; it’s silly really. But she was hoping I might change my mind and attend, and now I have.” 

Draco’s mouth ran dry as his lips quirked in a weak smirk. 

xXx

**A/N: Thanks for all your wonderful feedback so far and for reading this little story of mine! I’m having way too much fun with it all lol **

**Alpha eyes and Beta heart to the one and only MCal. Thank you, my love!**


	5. Chapter 5

“Malfoy!” 

Nearly jumping from his skin, Draco let out a loud breath and turned to glare at his roommates. They’d disappeared at some point, only to reappear shaking a flask in his direction. 

“Firewhisky for the road?” Blaise’s smile gleaned in the dim light of their dungeon dormitory as he skulked across the floor. 

“I’m good. Not tonight.” 

“Merlin, what’s crawled up your arse and died, Malfoy? I swear you used to be fun and this little pet project of yours happened with Granger and you’ve turned into a fucking bore.” Blaise scoffed, leaning on the stone wall just a few paces away. As usual, Theo stayed stoically quiet behind. The bloke had less backbone than a snake. 

Indignation coloured his cheeks as he returned his gaze to the mirror and fussed with his tie. “Maybe I’m just sick of this same old shite. We’re gonna be graduating soon. It’s time to stop just looking for a pair of legs to chase after.” 

Snorting, Blaise pushed off the wall and came to stand just over his shoulder, staring at him through the reflection.“This coming from the bloke who is willfully taming the Dragon Queen just so you have someone to serve your detention. I call bollocks, mate.” 

Fussing with his hair a final time, Malfoy turned and fixed his most charming smile on his lips, praying the falsity of it seeped into Zabini’s skin. “That’s all over. I’m telling her tonight and I’m going to give it an honest go. She’s nothing like I thought and I’m sorry, but I’m just sick of playing these games. I’ll see you up there.” 

Clapping a palm over Blaise’s shoulder, the corner of Draco’s lip turned down and he left, grabbing the parcel on his bed and ignoring the scoffs aimed at his back, 

xXx

Without a shadow of a doubt, Draco was positive that Granger was not standing him up. Positive. 

But as couple after couple descended the stairs and entered the Great Hall, that non-existent shadow grew and grew. He turned, holding the ridiculous little box that his mother had sent him and cursing to himself. 

Then, the weight of stare fell heavy on his back and with bated breath, he peeked over his shoulder, only to have that very breath stolen from his lungs. Granger descended, an absolute vision if he ever saw one, a silver dress kissed the stairs at her feet, swirling in loose pleats of chiffon. Thin straps graced her shoulders that were marvelously on display thanks to her hair being piled up on the top of her head. 

In a ridiculous display of affection, his hand came up and clutched at his chest, feigning pain upon seeing her, as if his heart had ceased beating—which he could argue it had—and she stifled a playful giggle. As her heel touched the final stair, he crossed the few long strides to her side, a grin threatening to take over his normally stoic facade. 

“Malfoy.” 

“Granger. You look stunning.” His throat felt all at once too tight and when a smile graced her perfect lips, he felt his heart finally begin beating again, now taking up a frantic staccato. 

“You don’t clean up so bad yourself.” She bloody winked and his cheeks coloured like a child. 

“I got you this. It might be ridiculous but it’s what stuffy Purebloods do for these sorts of things.” He held out the package, watching as curiosity slid over her features as she peeled back the cover. Inside was a cluster of winter white roses, nestled in winter berries and a few sprigs of evergreen. “Well, Mum picked it out. I’m rubbish at things like that.” 

Her warm gaze shot to his, and for a moment he felt sheer and utter panic. “You told your mum about me?”

With a lopsided smirk, he nodded. “Yeah. Is that okay?”

“Yes.” The apples of her cheeks pinkened as Draco lifted the corsage from its packaging and slipped it on her wrist. “Please tell her she did a wonderful job. It’s really lovely.” 

“Maybe you could tell her yourself over tea. You could come to the Manor over holiday, if you wanted—if you had time, that is.” 

Winding her arm through his, Draco couldn’t help but stare at the pretty pink staining her cheeks. With a deep, fortifying breath, he led them into the Great Hall. 

Everywhere he looked, people were staring. Maybe they were staring at the sight of Draco Malfoy with the Dragon Queen, but most likely they were staring at the staggering beauty on his arm. He’d resolved, since the kiss to end all kisses, that this little charade was done. He needed to come clean to Granger about his original motivations and let her know that he had done gone and fallen head over heels for the charming little swot. 

But day after day passed, and whenever she looked at him with that sparkle in her eye or a blush to her cheeks, he couldn’t summon the courage. It was possible she’d understand, maybe not hex him into oblivion, but it was far more likely she’d remove his bollocks and keep them in a little glass jar. But he’d make up for it—he had too. 

Once inside, Granger’s breath hitched as the scene before them unfolded. Innumerable evergreen trees dusted in white lined the room; it looked like they had stepped straight into the forest. Above, hundreds of candles floated overhead, mixing with small glowing orbs to create a soft ambient light, that made the snow falling from the enchanted ceiling glitter. 

The music was slow, lilting through the air as the students made their way to the dozens of round tables filling the room. 

“Do you want to sit with your friends?” Granger asked, turning to him with her brows lifted high. 

“Merlin, no. Definitely not. My friends are horrible company.” Hiding a shiver, Draco shook his head. He’d have to be bloody mad to march Granger into the snake pit. Especially with Zabini being as pissy as he was. 

“Oh.” There was a sense of dejectedness lingering in her tone but she smiled softly and jerked her chin in the opposite direction of where the majority of Slytherin’s were gathering. “Well, with mine then. C’mon, Harry and Ron have a table.”

Why had he not had the foresight to consider that he would be at dinner with the idiots-extraordinaire. It reeked of bad decision, especially when they approached the table and both the twits froze in mid-sentence, eyes rounding as if they’d seen a ghost.

“Malfoy?” Potter choked. “I didn’t realize you’d be joining us.” 

“Neither did I. Guess we’re all in for a surprise.” Sliding an empty chair from the table, Draco gestured for his date to sit and then took the seat next to her. 

His arm came up, resting across the back of her chair as he awaited the first course, and kicking himself for not imbibing in the firewhisky when he’d had the chance. 

Dinner passed most uneventfully. Ginny joined them, meaning that Potter stared starry-eyed at her through the meal. And finally, the pudding was cleared and the music began to pick up its tempo. Student’s gravitated towards the dance floor and clumped together in various groups and at last, Draco had the full attention of his witch. 

She turned to him, hiding a playful smile before leaning in and kissing him quickly on the lips. Without a thought, his hands moved of their own accord, shooting forward and cradling her jaw, deepening the kiss for a fraction of a moment before releasing her. His lips parted, ready to ask her to get some air so they could talk, but she spoke first. “Do you want to dance? I mean, I don’t know if you like dancing. As a rule, I don’t. But, we could—if you wanted. Or we could not, that would be equally—”

Surprising them both with a throaty laugh, Draco kissed the tip of her nose and rose swiftly to his feet, buttoning his jacket and then holding his palm out for hers. “Let’s do it, Granger.” 

xXx

The night wore on a delightful pace; it was filled with Granger’s trilling laughter and stolen kisses. A few dances where his hand had slid just beyond what his mother would deem appropriate. 

Sitting at their table now, the night finally winding towards its inevitable close, Draco realized he’d yet to fess up. Granger had snuck off to the bathroom and in her absence, he practiced how best to phrase it so that he could perhaps not only keep his bollocks intact, but hopefully keep his witch as well. 

Through the crowds, a shock of ginger hair and a messy mop of black came into his view and Draco was off his feet, cutting through the crowd until he was breathless in front of them. 

“I need to talk to you twits.” Narrowing his gaze over his shoulder, he pushed past them. Once the three of them were out of earshot, his voice dropped and he poked each of them hard in the sternum, noticing for the first time the dated, plum dress robes Weasley was sporting. “Merlin’s tits, what the fuck are you wearing? Nevermind. In a shocking twist of events, I ended up actually getting on with Granger. The whole thing is off.”

Harry took a quick step towards him, his eyes blowing wide behind his crooked glasses. “Wait, what do you mean?”

“I mean, you moron, I’m telling Granger. Tonight. I’ll cover your dumbarses, but no more cauldrons or carrying my bag. Everything ends now. Got it?”

The two Gryffindors shared a meaningful look, a silent conversation happening with just the twitching of their brows. Seemingly coming to an agreement, they grinned back at him. “Got it, Malfoy.” 

The smallest fraction of his worry lifted and he let out a long breath. “Okay. I just need to find—” 

Just then the crowd parted, and his gaze fell on the scooping back of Granger’s silver dress. But a dark hand slithered around her thin waist as they made a slow rotation on the dance floor. 

Sharp pain shot through his chest as he studied the scene in front of him. Blaise’s hazel eyes locked on Draco’s over his shoulder, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he continued speaking far too closely to his witch’s ear for his liking.

They made another slow turn and Draco caught sight of Granger’s face, brows furrowed and her brown eyes misty. Her hands fell away from Blaise’s shoulders, confusion dripping over her features. 

Cursing through clenched teeth, Draco pushed through the dancing couples, chasing the tendrils of chiffon now marching off the dance floor. 

“Granger!” To his utter surprise, she stopped. To his even bigger surprise, she turned on her heel, palm flashing through the air and meeting his cheek with a deafening slap. 

Reality crashed down on him and when he managed a tentative look back at her, he realized just how horribly he’d fucked everything up. 

“Granger, you have to let me explain. It’s not what you think…” Pain blossomed on his cheek and he fought his instinct to soothe it away. 

Indignation coloured her cheeks and chest, her brows rising high on her forehead.“Tell me it’s not true, then.” 

He couldn’t. Lying at this point would be futile and foolish and he kicked himself for not just fucking telling her sooner. 

“Granger, I wasn’t expecting to—”

“Wasn’t expecting what?” She screamed, her voice shaking with the tears she refused to shed. Around them, couples stopped their swaying and the music died.  _ Brilliant _ , his humiliation would be on display for all of bleeding Hogwarts. “Wasn’t expecting to like me?”

Draco took a quick step towards her, dropping his voice and reaching for her elbow. “Could we just go and talk?” 

Just as his fingertips brushed the soft skin of her arm, she wrenched it back, a single tear streaking down her freckled cheek. “Don’t fucking touch me. Tell me the truth—now.” 

Filtering through a dozen excuses he might be able to pull off, his consciousness kept settling on the truth, crushing his chest until his breath felt tight. “Please, just let’s just talk.” 

Her shoulders fell, a hollowness spreading across her beautiful face. “I told you. I told you all about what happened before with Cormac and you blamed it on me. You told me that it was  _ me _ who wouldn’t let people get close when you were doing the same bloody thing he was!”

“No, I wasn’t!” A misguided sneer pulled at his lip and he took a sharp step towards her. “Not even close; this was never about getting into your bloody knickers, Granger. You know me!” 

She scoffed, fresh tears joining the ones now staining the dance floor. “I don’t know you, Malfoy. I never did. I never will.” 

Turning on her heel, Draco’s heart lurched, hands hanging heavy at his side and the truth blurted past his lips before he could stop it. “I love you.” 

Freezing, stiff shoulders rising, she barely managed a glance over her shoulder. “People like you don’t know what it’s like to love. You’re cold. Heartless. Selfish. Nothing like the person you pretended to be.” 

With that, she was gone, leaving nothing but an ache in his chest and an icy chill in her wake. Their audience dispersed, mumbling about the scene under their breaths as the band started up again. Draco couldn’t move. Moving meant he’d lost and that was a defeat he couldn’t stomach. 

A loud obnoxious laugh startled him from his trance and suddenly Blaise was there, resting his arms around his shoulders and shaking him. “I’m sorry, Mate. It had to be done. You were getting whipped! Now we can go back to enjoying our last bloody year at Hogwarts.” 

Instinct drove Draco’s fist as he turned, clipping Blaise in his square jaw, sending him stumbling to the ground. Theo sunk to the floor, tending to their injured friend before getting shoved off as Blaise scrambled back to his feet. 

“The fuck, Malfoy! You forget who I am? I’ve been there through it all and you’re gonna throw it away from some slag?”

His lips pulled back in a sneer and his hands darted out, curling in Zabini’s robes as he yanked his friend closer until they were almost nose to nose. “Don’t you dare fucking talk about her like that. And don’t talk to me, either. We’re done.” 

Releasing his robes with a little too much force, Draco turned and stormed from the Great Hall, ignoring all the eyes boring into his back. 

xXx

The final whistle of the train pierced through the cold December air and Draco felt the pit in his stomach expand, swelling the ache in his chest until he felt absolutely nothing at all. 

He’d waited. Not only had he searched every car but then he’d waited until the last of the students had boarded the train and still no sign of her. 

“ _ All aboard _ !” 

With a heavy step, Draco boarded the train, searching out the car that housed the two idiots who had gotten him into this whole mess. Pushing the door open, he didn’t have a second to get a single word out. 

“She took a Portkey,” Potter mumbled, his hands shoved under his thighs and his chin tucked in chagrin. “She’s fucking livid at the lot of us—”

“As she should be! You’re all idiots.” With a huff, Ginny crossed her arms and narrowed her glare, before her features softened and she scooted closer to her boyfriend. “But, it was rather romantic, if not idiotic.”

“Portkey?” Draco rushed. “What are you talking about?”

“Her parents,” Weasley interjected. “They live in Australia, moved there a while back. She took a Portkey early this morning. She won’t be back until term resumes.” 

The ginger fuck had the good sense to at least seem contrite and for some unknown reason, Draco took a step into the car and fell into the seat across from Potter. He had nowhere else to go and at least these idiots understood the bloody mess he was in.

Two weeks. 

He had two weeks to figure out how in the hell he was going to woo Hermione Granger for real. Merlin, it’d been hard enough the first time. 

  
  



	6. Chapter 6

Over the course of the next two weeks, all of Draco’s attempts at contracting Granger remained futile. Owls returned without their letters but also heralding no reply. The box of Sugar Quills he’d sent arrived in the same package, but the contents had been obliterated, smashed all to hell until they were practically dust. 

Hindsight was always painfully clear, and this not only proved it, it exasperated it. But how could he regret it when that was how he’d ended up getting to know the witch in the first place. 

Finally, Christmas passed, Boxing Day too and not a day too soon, he was yet again on the Hogwarts Express. He found a table on the opposite end of the car from Theo and Blaise, ignoring the daggers they were shooting at his back. 

The castle was the same that he’d known all these years, only less festive as when he’d left two weeks prior. He felt simultaneously hollow and on edge, wandering the castle hoping for a glimpse of the witch he’d been pining over, disappointment washing over him again and again at every corner. 

That night he fell into his bed and stared up at the canopy; hours passed until sleep finally overtook him. 

xXx

Draco was the first person to the Great Hall the following morning. He didn’t enter; instead, he stood right outside the doors with his arms crossed and features pinched. She’d have to come eventually. 

A bloody hour. That’s how long he stood there waiting until her wild curls rounded the corner, her arm linked through Ginny Weasley’s and chin tilted proudly. 

His stomach knotted and all of his resolve melted and pooled at his feet. 

“Granger!” He hissed at her back as she snubbed him and strutted into the hall. “Granger, please!”

She didn’t pause, didn’t even hesitate a single step as she marched to her table, taking a seat next to Potter and ignoring Draco’s existence completely. 

“Desperate doesn’t look good on you, Mate.” Blaise chuckled as he passed, clapping a condescending palm on Draco’s shoulder that he violently shrugged off. “Last chance to apologize.” 

Lip curling in a sneer, Draco turned on his heel and down the hall. “Piss off, Zabini.” 

xXx

The next few days were much of the same. Not only had he regressed to where he’d begun, what with Granger ignoring his existence except to snarl if he got too close, but it had gotten worse. Frigid, was perhaps the nicest term he could muster when discussing her particular proclivity for icing him out. 

Astronomy came, and while Draco did indeed take his seat next to his partner, he trained his eyes ahead as best he could. Still, at various moments during class his gaze would flicker to his left. For most of the hour, she looked stoic, features unaffected and her chin tilted upwards when she wasn’t scrawling notes on her parchment. But then, right at the very end, he saw it. A tear that she quickly banished from her cheek as Professor Sinistra began wrapping up the lecture. 

Merlin, fuck it all. He wanted to make it better. Wanted to just reach out and rest a hand on hers and let her know that he still saw her, still cared, even if his actions so blatantly contradicted the ideal. 

“I want to congratulate you all on a job well done last term. Your charting and essays were exceptional and exactly what I would expect from you seventh years.” With a flick of their Professor’s wrist, parchments lifted off her desk and floated down to the table in front of each respective student. 

It was their assignment, with an ‘O’ written proudly on the top along with a lovely handwritten note,  _ You two make a wonderful team. This was the most throughout and comprehensive of the group. Brilliant job.  _

Granger’s gaze flickered over to the paper and then with a dismissive push of her fingers, sent the report over to him. 

“Starting next week we will go over the project for this term. Enjoy the rest of your day. Class dismissed.” 

Chair legs scraping over the stone and the swell of hushed voices filled the classroom and before he lost her again, he darted out, folding his fingers around her forearm. “Granger, please. Will you just listen to me?” 

She remained silent, her only answer was ripping her arm back and stormed from the classroom. Cursing under his breath, he pounded a fist into the tabletop and growled at nothing in particular. 

“You’re going to have to do better than that, Mister Malfoy.” Professor Sinistra was still there, her glasses perched dangerously low on her long nose as her almost amethyst coloured eyes peered over the frame at him. 

Brilliant. Even their bloody professor knew what a sodding arse he was. Grabbing up his belongings, Draco stuffed them quickly into his bag and sprinted from the classroom. 

“Granger!” The witch in question froze for a brief moment, before tensing and continuing onward. “Merlin, would you stop being so bloody tempestuous and just talk to me!” 

That grabbed her attention. She turned so fast that Draco barely knew she had before she was rearing on him and shoving her pointer finger into his chest. “You are an arsehole of massive proportions. You befriended me under the guise of getting to know me, you were trying to what? Win a bet? Bragging rights?  _ I trusted you! _ ”

“I know!” His hands sliced through the air as he towered over her. Around them a small crowd formed, students from every house and every year come to watch Hermione Granger make stardust of him. “I know I’m a prick, alright? But I changed! You— _ you _ changed me. And somewhere along the way, I stopped doing it for any reason other than I wanted to know you. I was so humiliated I couldn’t come clean, I knew you wouldn’t understand.” 

“I would have, Malfoy! If you told me and explained, I would—”

With an indignant snort, Draco rolled his eyes. “Bull-fucking-shite. You would’ve reacted exactly as you’re reacting now. I’m sorry that I made a mistake. But I meant what I said; I want to be with you for real and I think you want to be with me too. But, if you don’t, then at least have the heart to just fucking end it so I know.” 

“Are you dense?  _ Of course,  _ it’s over. You broke my heart and humiliated me. The fact that I have to see you at all for the next five months makes me sick.” Her voice trembled as she did exactly what Draco knew she would, crushed him into nothing. 

His gaze misted, lips pulling into a tight line to keep from all-out sobbing. “Message received. Loud and clear, Granger.” 

Ignoring the way his heart wrenched and begged him to stay, he tore down the corridor, desperate to return to his dungeon dwellings and forget that anything ever happened with Hogwart’s resident Dragon Queen.

xXx

** _Granger, _ **

** _I know that I told you I’d piss off and I will. But since you refuse to let me explain myself in person, I am holding out hope that you’ll at least read this letter. Maybe at least not think of me as complete and utter scum, just a fool who didn’t know what he’d gotten himself into._ **

** _I had a perception of you, one I think you tried very hard to emanate to keep the blokes like me away. I stupidly wanted to be the one to break through that. It wasn’t so I could get in your knickers or anything of the sort, I just…I wanted to. And it makes me feel sick to even write those words out, but they’re true. _ **

** _But somewhere along the way, all the things that drove me crazy about you, started being charming. You’re funny, in a weird way, and you’re quite possibly the smartest person I’ve ever met. _ **

** _After we kissed, I knew I was going to tell you. I wanted to do it all properly but every time an opportunity came along, I just wanted to stay in that bubble a little while longer. But, I should have. _ **

** _I’m sorry. _ **

** _I got you a Christmas present…that’s what in the box, but I’m sure you’ve figured that out. I was hoping to give it to you in person but since that won’t be possible, here. I still want you to have it. I fell for you under the stars and wanted a way to give them all to you. Open in the dark and cast a lumos on it. _ **

** _Again, sorry that I’m a wanker. You didn’t deserve any of this. _ **

** _-D.M_ **

He stared at the tiny bauble, about the size of a snitch but silver and engraved with constellations. Safe in the confines of his bed, drapes drawn, he mumbled the necessary spell and watched as the trinket flickered to life. The darkness was now peppered with stars, even planets now visible in a swirl of vibrant blues or purples. 

Turning his lips down, he whispered, “ _ Nox, _ ” and placed the gift back in its wrappings, closing the lid and pinning his letter to the top. Vainly, he held onto hope. It was a fool’s wish, but it was his to hold onto. 

xXx

The days wore on with little sight of Granger. He hated the way that one witch could plummet him into this kind of state, but he’d honestly never felt so bloody alone. Finishing out the year would be more like a sentence at Azkaban, one day bleeding into the next with little reprieve. 

Chin tucked into his chest, Draco meandered towards his seat at the Slytherin table, halted only by the shouting of an indignant witch at his back. 

“ _ Malfoy!” _

Merlin, have mercy. His stomach plummeted and he groaned, hardly ready for another bout of verbal whiplashing with an audience. Apparently, the student body was ready as well, some of them going so far as to rub their hands together merrily as they turned and gathered around them. 

“You think a gift is going to win me over?”

“I’ve long since given up hope that I might win you over, Granger. It was for you, so I gave it to you. End of.” He drawled, turning back the way he’d been heading.

“ _ No _ .” 

There was that bleeding word again. Lips pulling back in a sneer, he faced her yet again. “What gives, Granger? Do you have some quota that you have to hit every day with that bloody word? It wasn’t a question!”

“No.” 

An unintelligible little growl rumbled past his lips and he was about to go on and lose it on every blasted student whispering around them right now. The crowd that had gathered was almost laughable, that is, if they weren’t there to witness his final castration. 

“You got to say your peace and I want a chance to say mine, Malfoy. You’re pretentious. And incorrigible and not to mention smug and underhanded when you are trying to get your way. You always have a second set of motives and I think you’re an absolute arse when you’re around those two morons—” Granger paused to jerk her chin at Theo and Blaise and that even Malfoy had to laugh around the terrible knot in his throat. 

“Yeah, that’s a non-issue. They’re tossers anyway,” he said with a snort. 

“I hate the way you think you’re charming and good looking, even if you are. I hate when I’m trying to study and you won’t stop staring at me or the way that you think you’re doing so in secret, even though it’s bloody obvious. I hate that you make grand gestures in front of people even if it does make me feel special and noticed.” 

Draco’s brow knitted tightly as she wore on, realizing that while he was most definitely getting his arse dragged, she was saying something else at the end. Hope inflated in his chest until he thought he might burst. 

She gulped as tears spilled over onto her cheeks. “But the worst part is that I don’t hate you. Even if I bloody want to because of all the reasons I just listed and many more, but I can’t. And I miss you.” Her voice broke at the end and it rattled through the emptiness of Draco’s chest.

It was quite possible that Draco Malfoy was now in a state of shock. His eyes were wide and round, staring at her those she’d just sprouted another head and all he could manage was to let his jaw fall open as their classmates gaped all around them. 

How long had he been silent? It was probably too long. It was probably now best for him to say something but then just as words started to form on the back of his tongue, she turned and sprinted from the Great Hall, leaving him with an audience of his very own and a thundering between his ears. 

Blinking himself back into reality, he rushed after her, shoving the snickering Hufflepuffs from his way. Merlin, the witch was quick but once in the corridor he dropped his bag in a deafening thud and screamed her name. “ _ Granger!” _

She froze, hanging her head before turning, tears staining her cheeks. “What, Malfoy?” she asked, frantically wiping at her face. 

Jogging up to her, he paused to catch his breath and after a too-long moment, straightened to stare down at her, still panting heavy breaths. “You can’t just say something like that and leave!”

Huffing loudly, she crossed her arms and leveled her narrowed glare in his direction. “You clearly have moved on and I just made an arse out of myself…” Her voice drifted off, pain dripping from each word and he couldn’t help but laugh. 

“Granger, you’re mad. I don’t think I’m capable of moving on. You’ve destroyed all other witches for me; I meant what I said. I love you.” The confession hung between them for an important moment before he continued, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “And I only didn’t say it in front of all those twits because I was in a state of complete and utter shock. But I do and I’ll say it again and again. Louder, if it pleases you.” Turning over his shoulder to the crowd now forty paces away, still in rapture by their debacle he shouted. “ _ I LOVE HER YOU IDIOTS!”  _

Her laugh filled the air around him and he returned his attention to his witch, taking a step into her and cradling her jaw. “And now I’m going to kiss you.” 

Hovering his lips over hers, he waited. Surely if she’d been luring him in for a hex or swift kick to the bollocks, now would be the time. But instead, remarkably, she grinned. Her small hands resting on his hips as she lifted on her toes to close the space between them. 

What she started, he deepened; letting his lips move fervidly over hers as his hands dropped from her jaw to her waist and lifted her until her feet were off the cobbled stone. Behind them, dozens and dozens of hoots and hollers echoed down the hall along with one well-timed ‘ _ Get it, Granger!’ _ And their lips parted only to laugh, pressing their foreheads together as Draco set her back on the ground. 

Draco Malfoy had never considered himself a lucky bloke. But he was quite certain that he would forever thank his lucky stars that those two bumbling idiots sat across from him that one day. 

xXx

**I hope the last week since your birthday has been wonderful, MD! I had so much fun writing this for you and I hope you all enjoyed reading it! **

**Biggest of thanks to my Alpha and Beta, MCal for giving this your time and attention! **

**If you’re interested in hearing me talk about the fandom, Frumpologist and I have started a podcast that will be going live in the next week! Join us on Facebook at Wine, Wands and Waffling for all things Fanfic and Fandom! We will be talking with tons of your favorite authors, dissecting fics and so, so so much more! Come on and hang with us! **


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